On my first day of school, you and I were in a room where everything was new. You were standing behind me, bending down and whispering to me to follow the steps we had practiced.

As I glanced at you, I noticed that your hands were in your pocket. As usual.

I knew you just as much as you knew me.

As I gathered more knowledge, I was prohibited from talking to you, which made me angry because you were the one who forbid it. For a while, I resent you for that.

There was a time when you were there and then you were not.

You made me feel lonely.

It was difficult for both of us.

At that time, you gradually disappeared and then reappeared. It seemed like you went for a stroll and then returned.

I was prohibited from having a conversation with you. You conveyed this to me. Whenever I asked you why, you would only say that it had to be that way.